I am tangled by despair. Toklas has been gone for six weeks four days, and I am cast adrift. Tomorrows come and go. The sun rises for its brief sojourn across the southern horizon and then disappears, swallowed by the dark. Students complain of depression, anxiety, and I think what can you know of grief? I am swallowed by it. You, you count deaths on one hand, one finger even. Me, I count in dozens. I don't have enough fingers and toes to keep track of the beloveds who have moved beyond my reach. Mattie's Pillow offers reprieve. But playing fiddle no longer soothes. The ache is too great, the gap too wide for music to fill. Tonight, I would gladly follow Toklas, eagerly go to a place where we could sit together once more, humming together in the dark.
Oh, come to the Nutcracker. Ask me and I'll tell you the deeper story of transformation that it offers. Check my latest post on this. The year will turn soon.
ReplyDeleteAs for kitties, I've only just been able to acknowledge that my kitty, Shadow (she chose her own name) is gone and that I really need a cat in my life. Keep dancing and fiddling. Kitties pass through our lives; there's no way those bodies can live as long as ours.
It's one reason I have horses.
Seven weeks and six days. The grief has not ebbed. I know from your post, MP, and from our elevator chats, that you continue to grieve for your dear Shadow. I so wish that we did not have to say goodbye to our beloved furry companions.
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